Machine room
by Alessandra Hope's thief
Summary: It was his special place first, then it was hers too. A place that has seen their worst and best and all of them. It witnesses when she says they don't know each other, and he says they do. Unmasked faces are all is left, he implies. Shay/Wally


Hey! So here is the story that came up from the 'Unmasked' challenge between the excellent writer Vytina and me for the Shayera (Hawkgirl)/ Wally (Flash) fan club 'Starcrossed 2'. Because they're beautiful and perfect together!

And I am really, really, deeply sorry for the delay. I'm posting like a week and a half after she did and I feel terrible. ...but can you blame me? I was overwhelmed re-reading The Hunger Games' books and watching the movie. And yeah, despite leaving some 'book things' out of it, it is beautiful and amazing and I completely love it. Go watch it if you haven't already. If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't worry, watch it anyway! I promise you won't regret it ;)

So on with the story...

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><p>Machine room.<p>

One foot after the other took him through the narrow, dark corridors, the almost inaudible sound of shoes on metal echoing, and his movements foreign to him, for his steps acquired the slowness and quietude of a predator. Perhaps caused by the sense of alarm awaken in him by the screeching of metal bars that betrayed the presence of someone else when there was to be no one there at all. Not even him.

But even he, to surprise and scoffing of some, needed time alone. Not in a melodramatic or theatrical sense, not because his laughter silenced his thoughts nor it were a facade. But simply because he found there a comfortable place to reflect, to bow down and accept mistakes and learn from them. But beyond all that, and all those valid reasons for choosing such a unique hideaway, it was because that dark and airy room was a tacit meeting point.

_Flashback_

_He had found it __by accident. __From time __to time, during __his brief states __of boredom,__ in __which __strangely __food didn't appeal to him as it usually did, __he'd __run around the entire __Watchtower looking for __something to do. __His head __would look over __all __the __doors of the station in __orbit to __see who __was inside.__ He'd b__riefly __sit __next to someone __and start a __little conversation __and then leave __again, still bored.__Or so __he'd tell himself.__ T__he truth was that he __was looking for__ a certain __winged woman__, in spite of never admitting it._

_ Of course he had seen it before, and it logically should be there. The machine room was his last resort, and with surprise, a place he had grown fond of that could be labeled from unusual to even strange, having in mind who we're talking about._

__ The first time he set foot there, he told himself, was for the sake of doing so. When he went further in, his curiosity grew and the atypical ambience, in contrast to the quiet and clear one of the crowded halls, sheltered him with a bewitching feeling. Meters and meters of pipe and air leaks made up the place he would come to any time he needed to think.__

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><p><em>His days <em>_on duty __didn't match__ he__rs,__and __yet his __scarlet __figure was __leaning against __the __winged woman's legs__, his head in her lap and his eyes closed peacefully._

_While she__ did her duty, __her __watchful eyes__ fixed on the multiple monitors –those that Flash disliked so much arguing that 'It's not healthy to spend 6 hours straight watching a plasma screen' and ignoring the fact that he did so when in front of his T.V._–_receiving warnings and delegating tasks, he drifted off to his nap._

_Hawkgirl __didn't have __super__hearing, __but that didn't mean__ she didn't have__ a great development__ of said sense__.__ Sh__e turned her __head __slightly to the side from which __the almost inaudible __sound came from__, considering all the noise from the monitors that broadcasted live all around the world, as if by doing so she'd hear better._

_ She distinguished a strong female voice and a hoarse, guttural male one. Diana had the next turn and was making her way to the control room in the eternal company of the Dark Knight. Their dialogue –no, the tone of their dialogue ranging from charming to seductive and to serious, in an attempt to deny the first ones. Nothing out of the ordinary, actually. Hawkgirl didn't understand why Batman didn't just accept his attraction to the Amazon. Was that really that difficult? As if she was one to talk, anyway._

_Her attention __turned away __completely from the world__, seen through robotic blinds, to land on the peaceful face of the Scarlet Speedster. Her eyes, with a docile and unconscious permission of her brain, wandered and watched the attractive features of the sleeping man. The man she had come to think of as a friend. One that could be childish and too funny at times, and yet harbored within him something as pure and virtuous that to describe it, name it, would be quite complex, for something like it could not be said, but felt._

_After __alighting__ her eyes __inexplicably __on his lips,__ they noticed his __eyelids that with slight movements__ opened __while __gradually__ adjusted__ to __the light. __His blurred vision didn't allow him to see__with__ precise __clarity__ the __redhead's contemplative __eyes on__ his__ and__ the__ vague __smile on __her face._

_ Hawkgirl once again focused her attention on the monitors, like it had never departed from there in the first place, as soon as she realized that her friend had officially finished his nap. Regaining composure, which she didn't realize she'd lost, a smile formed on her face again, this time with a touch of mischief in it._

_"Comfortable?" She asked__, referring to the head that still rested on her lap__ ._

_Her smile __was apparently __contagious,__and given the __Flash's personality, __its size __doubled. __His head tilted backwards, his eyes __looking for __a better view of __his friend __and companion __and replied __haughtily__, "Very,_"

_The texture and __thickness of her mask __prevented her__ arched __eyebrow__ to be__ seen __by him. __Although she knew that __he knew__, after all that'd been his intention. It always was. With some kind of vindictive or challenging intent, she stood from her chair abruptly with apparent indifference, causing a mild –_though painful_, she supposed– 'bang' as his head found the chair with a small blow. A sonorous 'Ouch' followed._

_ "Hey! That hurt!" He said with mock indignation. His features forming a tender pout. One she ignored, of course. No matter how pleasant it proved._

_"Precisely." And the arrogant tone was now hers. Her full-of-it voice pleased Flash curiously and made him forget his pain. His nimble feet followed in the footsteps of the winged woman as a fool smile adorned his face. Other soft footsteps entered the stage and signaled them that Diana had already arrived._

_ In the hall headed to the cafetería, between thundering steps, Flash eyed Hawkgirl in a too-suspicious way. His mouth closed, a rarity itself, and his gaze, suddenly curious on the gray and homogeneous walls of the Watchtower each time she looked at him out the corner of her eye, betrayed him. His sudden hum of any song in particular confirmed it, but she decided to say nothing. Grabbing the necessary ingredients for coffee, vital now to her, she began to prepare it. He watched her every action with intense eyes. His body language became more uneasy by every passing second._

_ She, after wearing down almost every last bit of patience she had left, turned around and with an exasperated look and a slight growl raised her voice a few decibels "What?"_

_ A shy smile spread across his face. He had always accompanied her in her shifts, just as she did in his, and enjoyed her presence in a way he didn't allow himself to think too much about, however, his current company was due to that…and to another reason. He wanted to show her his 'hideout'. He smiled at how childish the word sounded._

_ "Nothing," He said, not leaving aside the anxiety. He'd wait until she'd drunken her coffee. He knew beforehand how a coffee-less Hawkgirl was like, and would not take such risks._

_ With the steaming cup in hand, its exquisite smell attesting its even more exquisite taste, she headed to nearby table. A characteristic and soft gust of wind and Flash was already sitting in milliseconds in the chair, his back straight and his hands together, elbows on the table, waiting for her to sit down as well._

_ She settled into the metal seat and took a sip of the black drink, her eyes fixed on his. As if challenging him, prompting him to say something, pushing him through her eyes and revealing some degree of exasperation and curiosity. He did not speak, his mouth sealed by the hope of her finishing her coffee quickly, as his eyes alternated between the cup, the exposed part of her face, the cup approaching her, and her lips. His gaze set comfortably there "You done?" Until, after asking the simple question, it returned to her eyes._

_ Her arched eyebrow was his only answer, to what he rolled his eyes. "I'll take that as a yes," He stood up and grabbed her hand and in a flash, they were at the bottom of the Watchtower. His hand left her waist and her feet touched the floor as Flash stopped. Before she could even get enough air into her lungs to form words, his red spandex-covered fingers silenced her lips as his own put together a radiant smile._

_ Why were they _there_? _Where was there_? … How did her hand get to be between his? With a gentle grip, he guided her through the corridors until they reached their destination. His smile got bigger when all the machines were at nearby sight. She, still confused, let her eyes dance through the tubes and wires and fencing and security and caution seals. To try to get the reason why she'd been brought there. ¿A technical problem, perhaps? An attempt in vain as he kept silent, though clearly excited, and kept leading her by the hand –its heat transferring to her own hand, going so far as to cause her an involuntary smile– to go deeper into what appeared to be the machine room._

_ "Close your eyes," he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper._

_The suddenly absent warmth of his hand made her realize that it was no longer around hers. The cold was nastier than ever before._

_ Her senses were focused on finding him. Her ears were sharpened and the noise from the machinery seemed to take a backseat. Her tact longed for his. And her eyes ...her eyes had shut closed right at the moment he'd asked for it. _Interesting and scary the kind of power he could have on her_, she thought._

_ The time ran slower as she felt the lightest of touches in her left wing before feeling it in her waist. Through the fabric and the spandex, the heat could be felt again. Some unexpected, or so they said to themselves, sensations claimed their way up their bodies and minds, her mind's confusion seemed to disappear as all her senses focused on the small movements of the speedster. The low confidence, which was unusual in him, disappeared almost entirely just as he felt her shiver at his touch. So subtle and little intimate. So expressive._

_ His breath, trying to be controlled, met her neck when he got even closer to her. Her back even tenser at feeling his body behind hers. With still 6 or 8 inches still separating them, their proximity was suffocating. It was vicious, and Flash couldn't help but subtract 2, even 4, more inches to the equation._

_ With his hand still on the curve of her waist, with her wings grazing pleasantly his broad chest, they slowly advanced a few more steps. As if locating her in a certain place. His right hand rested on her shoulder, his left one had already found comfortable place, and gently squeezed it. She forced herself to swallow, an action that betrayed and eased a little her nervousness._

_ "What's going on?" She inquired, due more to the ridiculous need of saying something, anything, than to the desire of doing so. It was uncomfortable at first, yes, but now feeling her wings caress the red spandex for instants and the eventual rubbing of their legs as they walked was nice. Very nice. The heat emanating from his body along with his warm breath against her neck was enough to cause one of the most genuine smiles that her lips had ever formed._

_"Wait," He muttered. His breath got lost among her red hair, his fingers caressing her exposed skin, as he moved them aside. And again, until her neck was free of anything. His fingers rested on the edge of her mask, the unconscious action demanding to be taken in mind, like the silent request of an unknown desire, and his hand dropped to his side. "Just wait."_

_ With perfect timing, and to her surprise and his pleasure, the sudden blast of air from the grid on which they stood up rose up quickly. It waved her hair and wings, shaking them and loosening a couple of feathers. The warm air danced between them both in a constant pace until it finally ceased in seconds._

_ Flash had been there long enough to know how it worked and its precise timing. There were drainage and breathing systems that activated alternately at certain periods. One section worked for a certain time and air leaks were made periodically. Section D, on which they stood, had just started._

_ His eyes wandered down her face, what was exposed to him of it, and the light curves of her lips brought a peaceful and radiant glow to his eyes. After a couple of minutes, he raised his arms a bit and reveled in the sensation of air under them, air running up, and pretended to take flight with it._

_ "It feels like flying," he said, his tone full of excitement. His smile evident in his voice._

_The mischievous side of her mind screamed for her to deny his statement with arguments of her own experience. With tough and bold arguments."Yes, Flash. Identical." Her tone falsely indifferent. But that side that, still mischievous, was noble too was bigger. The problem is that people always thought otherwise –because she showed otherwise._

_ "You're not funny, y'know" He said jokingly. Not bothered by what she said at all. An eye opening partially to perceive her reaction._

_ With her rogue grin on, she turned slightly, enough to locate his hands, and in a swift and subtle move took them in hers. "I know." She murmured.  
><em>

_His two eyes wide open in surprise at her action. She didn't turned around again, did not say a word, did nothing more than hold their hands as she lifted up her arms and wings slightly and appreciated the feeling that Flash wanted her to enjoy. And accepting it or not, she did. Maybe not 'fly' as such, which she indeed did occasionally when her attention was not placed strictly in battle. But she enjoyed the moment because of the fact of sharing the feeling with him in a so simple and so easy gesture._

_ It didn't go further, their skins never actually touched, their eyes didn't look into each other's, their lips did not form words, and yet, without more, something changed. They reaffirmed their friendship, their individual minds began to think about it and about the possibilities and the why's and above all that –what time would reveal– they realized his place was now hers too. A rather peculiar place certainly, but theirs nonetheless._

_ End of Flashback_

Her name –her codename, in fact– came to his mind as he recalled how it all began. His steps became even stealthier as he realized that it was indeed her who was unexpectedly accompanying him. He remembered that the place was of both, because for both it meant something they'd not dare to put into words, and also remembered that when he wasn't there, she was. It had become their center of reflection, of meditation. So, ¿What was she pondering about now?

A couple of days ago, between laughter and words, he had said "I love you". His only response had been an awkward silence. He had come to the machine room because of that. And he supposed, with a touch of hope in his logical deduction, that it was also her reason.

Something between the caution of, and, her movements –which he carefully watched– apparently proved him right. His instinct, the one that told him to just watch, forced him to stay still. His red suit obscured by the shadows in which he had hidden from her sight. The eventual glows from his suit's yellow details were barely visible. The white lenses of his mask obstructed partially the jovial twinkle in his eyes as they looked intently at the front, at the winged woman.

She stood right on the grid where Flash had located her at first. She forced her breathing to remain at a constant level as she recalled how spontaneously and genuinely those three words escaped his lips. Three words that had such an impact in her that she had her mind working hard to find a reason for the inexplicable feeling that gripped her body when she heard them. To explain it. To tell her why she had kept silent and why the hell she was there, thinking about it, trembling slightly.

Among all the reasons and ideas and thoughts her mind shuffled, she found none that persuaded her in the slightest into thinking, believing, that she felt nothing for him. ¿Why didn't she say something then? Because never in her life had she loved someone like that. Not how she thought she loved Flash. Not like she _wanted_ love him. But...

"Why?" she asked, seemingly to the emptiness around her. But somehow, perhaps even subconsciously she knew he was there. Just as he knew that she knew. Say it was because of their powers, of their skills as warriors, of their instinct, of their betraying breaths, of anything. But they knew. And involuntarily they'd given each other time. Time and silence to reflect.

"Does it need to have a reason? Can't it just be...felt?" he asked, his low tone emphasizing the last word, fully aware of what he was being asked too.

Her mirthless chuckle was clearly incredulous at his questions. "We don't even know each other, Flash" she said stubbornly.

The incredulous laughter was now issued by him. "Yes, we _do_ know each other," the security of his words surprised her and the firmness of his voice left no room for doubt, much less for objections.

She frowned "You don't even know my name, nor I yours," Her excuse seemed ridiculous to her even though her lips were the ones pronouncing the words.

He advanced towards her with a calm step. She stiffened slightly at hearing his footsteps on the metal, the only sound that mattered despite having so much around. The pipes and cables seemed to disappear as once again she focused all her senses on him and on his movements –_too_ slow to allow her to breathe normally.

His hands rested on her neck, his breath against it, his fingers tangled in her red locks as he stroked and then made his way to her mask's verge, letting his fingers linger there in silent request; for when he spoke, he did not ask for her face, he asked for her name. "Then tell me." His whispered voice slipped into her ears hauntingly, and her breath got caught in her throat.

She didn't over think it. Didn't even think about it. Words would've come out of her mouth at that very moment had she not been busy regaining her breath. And had she not raised her hands so they were right on his. She paused briefly, and then her fingers took the edge and lifted it, the mask getting off. Its great weight only noticeable now that it didn't cover her head. She took it in one hand and dropped it carelessly on the floor with a loud _bang_

Her hands returned to their former place; above his. Flash gulped. And couldn't help his eyes from widening as she turned around, passed the red curtain of her hair, her green orbs looked straight back at him, and she stood before him. His hands rested in the bottom of her cheeks and her upper neck.

Her heart beat faster and faster with every passing second that his eyes scanned her face. Contemplating each and every one of her features, beautiful and fine features. His eyes sparkling specially before such a surprise, such a gesture of trust. He memorized every single detail; the small brown spots adorning her cheeks even when being from another planet, green eyes that shone with expectation, with anxiety even, the light red curls framing her face angelically. And she his smile, his soft smile, outlined by pure admiration and love, and the white lenses that prevented her from seeing his eyes, her gaze fixed on them as if it could get through.

"Shayera. My name is Shayera" she said, her voice drained of breath, when her mouth finally managed to form at least almost inaudible words. And she watched with delight as his lips outlined a bigger smile, perfectly clear and expressive.

She felt one of his hands leave her face and take one of hers in a more formal gesture, that did not feel quite so. Yes, it was a formality, but the handshake was rather his own personal joke than anything else. A meaningful, reflexive joke that she felt was directed towards herself even before it was "Shayera," he said her name, the way he did registered in her memory forever "My name is West. Wally West." he added, his voice filled with innocent mockery. And in one swift motion, the red cloth covering half his head lied casually around his neck, his beautiful features finally exposed before her admiring gaze. His naked face comfortable and heartwarming before her.

Red hair, green eyes twinkling as she had never seen before and pale skin very similar to her own factions, though slightly different in hue and brightness. But the similarity was there, and yet they were so different. His face was smooth and friendly and candid and hers was stubborn and hard and rough. And without realizing it, his smile and gaze –was it possible that much devotion harbored in a single gaze?– softened her own face and the attitudes that it seemed destined to always wear were dimmed and it was now calm and peaceful, strong and sharp. The soothing sensation he had on her, _that he'd always had_, she admitted, reached inside her and her nervousness and insecurities vanished.

"See?" he said, breaking the trance that seeing his beautiful face had led her into. "We just met officially. _Can_ I love you _now_?" The emphasis in his question giving away his intention of making her realize that they did know each other, of reminding her that, even without names, he knew she was a lieutenant for the Thanagarian army and that she knew he worked in a crime lab, that even those details weren't as important as other things. That he didn't fall in love with her name, which he admitted was a beautiful one, or her role. He fell in love with her and her alone. That everything else was formalities that mattered but were not strictly necessary.

And despite all that, a warm feeling rushed through him as she whispered his name, 4 words slipped finely and harmonically from red lips just before her unexpected answer to his question was given; those lips pressed to his in a soft, effusive kiss.

Everything and nothing, this and the rest, with the machine room as only witness.

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><p>Hope you liked it. Tell me if you did ...and if you didn't, too.<p> 


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